We walked out to watch the sun set
into the sound,
sinking sullen feet
into the sand.
The sun gleamed with a cooling flame
like memory,
like an apparition or dream.
You followed me
that twilight, late spring, sawgrass cutting
our chilled flesh;
wind whipped your hair forward, shrouding
your face.
Too cold! you said, turning to walk
back to the house
we’d rented, and I watched your back,
your thighs and Nikes
disappear. Orpheus.
In light like blood
I fought for breath while furies
or gulls said
nothing, hovering. The sun exploded
in a streak
over the sea; on shore I shouted
in the dark.